Morbade
by Rosemary Tarleton
Summary: After being imprisoned by her brother, her husband and her father nearly a century ago, Morbade Gaunt is desperate to free herself. She casts out psychic line after psychic line, hoping to hook onto one that could help, finally snagging a hold on a mind that is very much weakened and open to those of Gaunt lineage. Miss Ginny Weasley. Disclaimer -of course I do not own Harry Potter


_I've got no idea why I'm doing this - I'm in the middle of two unfinished The Patriot stories already and I'm trying to write an original fiction as well, with the hope of publishing one day and helping my husband with the mortgage! But here I am, sitting here typing up this Harry Potter ditty that won't leave me alone. I've no idea where it'll go, or even if I'll bother expanding it from this point in time, but I felt driven to write this part, at the very least._

 _As I'm a massive Jason Isaac's fan, if I was to create a plot to follow and couple people together, then this story would most likely be a Lucius story. Except for that pesky little detail that he's still married! Then again, if you follow the movie instead of the book, Narcissa wasn't looking all that happy with Lucius at the end now, was she? Hehe._

* * *

 _"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?"_

With a flick of Molly's wand and a whispered word, the peeler leapt on the bench and got to peeling the potatoes. _Oh, she thought she had me, she did_. Molly ventured deeper into her kitchen, another wand flick and the scrubbing brush and dishes in the sink leapt to obey, the brush beginning to scrub. Domestic duties, a house-witch. But that's not all Molly was, it's not all she'd ever been. She did not use the magic firing through her veins solely to keep house, though in more peaceful times such as these, she had no great aspirations to do anything more with it. Raising children - that was the most important duty. Let others be aurors. Let others rule on the council. Without mothers raising their children, there would be no next generation to protect or govern. Bellatrix had been a fool to underestimate her. Molly was not ordinarily the smug type, she did not crow over her victories. But this particular one was such a grand triumph, one simply could not help it. Oh, to see the smile dissolve from Bellatrix's face as she came to realise she was facing a true and worthy opponent. In the end, it'd been Bellatrix who'd proved the lesser witch.

 _"You will never touch our children again!"_ And just like that, the full force of Molly's power had come to bear, firing through her entire body, building to such a pitch that when it finally flew through her faithful wand, the power caused such a blow as to end Bellatrix's life in only an instant.

Such was a mother's power, when pressed to the point. There was no remorse. Bellatrix had almost taken Ginny's life, the curse she'd thrown had missed Ginny by _this much_. Molly did regret the aftermath. Voldemort - _Merlin's beard_ , would it ever get easier to say that name? Even in the recesses of her own mind, she could barely stand to say it. To think it. _Voldemort_. It sent a creeping feeling along her spine and she resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. He-who-must-not-be-named was dead and she would not give in to fancies. Directly after she settled with Bellatrix _Voldemort_ went mad. As if he hadn't been there already… He went _really_ mad. Super crazy mad, as any one of her children would say. Poor Professor McGonagall, Slughorn and that dear Kingsley had taken the brunt of it - they'd been sent hurtling backward into the air before a massive force. Even now, months later, McGonagall complained of severe headaches. Molly wished they hadn't paid so dearly for her triumph. But, it'd taken Bellatrix out of the fight - how much worse would it have been for them all, if Bellatrix had been the victor?

They'd all paid dearly, each and every one of them. Thinking of Fred, her eyes burned. Her son. Losing even one of them had been like losing a limb. And for George… He walked about like a fellow who'd lost half his soul. At least he was trying to make do, now. At least he'd returned to the shop, he was joining the land of the living once more. Molly had been so utterly opposed to the boys dropping out of school but she had to concede now that Weasley's Wizardly Wonders was a Godsend, a busy, bustling, cheerful place filled with much needed distraction. As for Molly, she needed a distraction herself now. Her house was full again, it seemed that was always the way, ever since Ron bought home Harry and Hermione in his first year, as one brings home puppies. Molly the house-witch was needed, she could not succumb to her grief now. That was for the night, when she didn't have to function, when Arthur could hold her in his arms and weep with her.

She swallowed it back down and turned to the soup casserole bubbling over the fire.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Mrs. Weasley?" A voice asked behind her. Molly turned to Hermione Granger, standing within the doorway.

 _She'll be calling me Molly soon_ , if things transpired the way she thought they might be. Hermione rarely left Ron's side now, and he never left hers. If they could help it. Molly was so certain of their growing attachment, she'd resorted to setting charms just outside their bedroom doors every night, to alert her if either tried to visit the other for a midnight tryst. They were both too young, yet at the same time, they were quite old enough for such dallying. And while she would not mind them coming together, she'd rather the marriage came BEFORE the babies. She was simply old fashioned that way. There'd been nothing she could do to stop Fleur and Bill, and she was certain those two had done far more than any innocently engaged couple should. Molly had come to love Fleur well enough, but Fleur was still… well… French, wasn't she? And the French - well, they had a… different… set of values than did Molly Weasley. Besides, they were safely married now and no harm done. But Hermione and Ron were not going to sneak off for that sort of sport, not while living under her roof.

"Could you help Ginny change the sheets, dear?" Molly asked, keeping her misgivings to herself. "So much washing to be done. So much of everything to be done! Thank you, Hermione. I do appreciate it very much." The brown haired girl was already turning back toward the stairs when a sudden thought occurred to Molly. "Ron can do his own, dear!" She called after Hermione. The idea of this girl handling Ron's sheets was just a little too much for Molly. Yes, Ron could shift for himself today. Ginny came down next, her long red hair unbrushed and hanging about her face. She came into the kitchen, looking a little vacant eyed. Not enough sleep, perhaps? She wore a t-shirt and boxers - as Hermione called them, insisting they were muggle pyjamas but Molly didn't think they were serviceable sleepwear at all. They left very little to the imagination, Molly imagined Harry laying his gaze on Ginny's legs; those green eyes of his would bulge, his glasses would break! Part of her midriff showed as well, Molly could see Ginny's belly button. Not a suitable Christmas present, not by far. What had Hermione been thinking, when she gave that to Ginny?

"My dear, do go back upstairs and put a gown on," Molly said, her hands on her hips. Sweet Merlin. Ginny looked at her, tilted her head. It was almost as though she were trying to figure out who Molly was. Which was absurd, of course. "Ginny, did you hear me?" Molly rounded the table and came to stand before her daughter. "Go upstairs and put a night gown on. No, actually, change that. Go and get dressed, for goodness sake. And run a comb through your hair."

Instead of obeying, Ginny looked about the room, her brown eyes taking the kitchen as if for the first time. Footsteps on the stairs - wonderful, the boys were coming down. Harry would see Ginny and pop would go his glasses. Seizing up a long, knitted cardigan from the back of a chair, she forced it over Ginny's shoulders. The girl slipped her arms through but did so in a dazed sort of way, as though she were sleep walking. Arthur, Ron, Harry and George climbed down the stairs and spilled into the lounge room. Ginny walked toward them, no doubt to greet Harry. She was decently clad now to her thighs at least, her bare feet whispering across the rug.

"Gin," Harry breathed, smiling broadly, he came toward her and pulled her into his arms. Molly made no protest, she shared a small but faltering smile with Arthur. Faltering because last night, she'd heard the charm she'd laid across Ginny and Hermione's door sound three times and each time, Ginny had been the culprit. Molly had sent her back to bed and Ginny had gone obediently enough, but it worried her just the same. Had she been trying to slip into Harry's room? Surely not. Her daughter was not be foolish enough to get up to such… nonsense. Surely? Molly noticed something odd just then. Harry was embracing Ginny, his arms around her body across her back. But hers remained stoically at her sides and she looked at him with _such_ a bewildered expression. As if she did not know him and was politely curious.

Hermione came down with the first lot of sheets. Harry released Ginny from the embrace and with his hand on the small of her back, he led her toward the arm chairs and couch. Ron and George already occupied two of those and Arthur sat in a far corner with that mornings Quibbler. After recent events being reported on so unfaithfully by The Daily Prophet, Arthur had become rather unwilling to read it at all. Molly still enjoyed it - some fine gossip pages and all.

"Hermione, do come sit down," Molly offered, guilt slicing up her spine. Why should the girl work when the boys were all sitting about talking? Molly herself sat down opposite Ginny and Harry. She kept her eyes on the pair - or on Ginny, rather, for she was acting so very strangely. The cardigan had fallen open, it hung like an open sack, revealing long, pale legs. She absently hooked a lock of red hair over her ear as she looked around the room, at her brothers and her father, as if trying to decide who they were. Harry was speaking to her, leaning forward to catch her gaze, her hand held loosely in his. He was becoming alarmed also, Molly saw it at once. Rising, Molly pulled a blanket off the chair and draped it over Ginny's legs. The girl barely noticed.

"Gin?" She called as if she was gently waking her daughter, rousing her from slumber.

"Gin?" Ginny said. "Is that her name? Gin is sleeping."

It was simply horrifying. Not a single one of them laughed, none of them could take it as a joke. Ginny had a fine sense of humour, she could best her brothers at the best of times. This was not one of those times. This was… This was entirely something else. This was something dark, there was a charged feeling in the air. Molly felt a movement beside her, Hermione coming to stand at side. When Molly looked back to her daughter, when she looked Ginny in the eyes, she suddenly saw someone _else_ looking back. Her wand was in her hand on the instant - the house-witch shifting into the witch that'd killed Bellatrix Lestrange. Ginny - no, not Ginny, Molly could not think of her as such now, not with someone else peering through those eyes. The stranger looked down the end of Molly's wand, seemingly unconcerned.

"I'm not going to hurt her," the stranger said. As if that could possibly make Molly feel any better about the situation.

"You need to get out of my daughter's body and you need to do it now," she said, voice firm, filled with threat. The boys were all on their feet. Harry stood at the strangers side, not seeming to know what to do. Arthur had his wand out also, but in truth, neither would dare utter a curse. This person was in Ginny's body, but it was still _Ginny's body_. "Arthur, we'll need the Codex," Molly said, voice strained with the effort of keeping calm. "I do not recall any expelling incantations from the top of my head and I won't risk saying the wrong words in case it's Ginny I cast out by mistake."

"Oh no, please do not cast me out," the stranger said, using Ginny's voice. Molly could barely stand it. Her heart pounded furiously, sweat slicked her forehead. How had this person - this _creature_ \- how did she invade Ginny's body?

"Accio," Arthur murmured, summoning the codex. Filled with ancient and powerful - and usually unnecessary - spells, it would be precisely what she needed to drive this… person?… from Ginny's mind.

"I need your help," the creature said. Molly shook her head, furiously denying this.

"You need help, you ask for it!" Hermione gasped, outraged. "You don't go and… and… Take over someone else's body! How are you even doing it? You need to get out at once!"

"Please, I've been trapped so long, though it feels like it's only been an instant. I have such a feeling of time weighing down on me, I truly think so much has passed since… Please - your daughter," the thing said to Molly. "She _is_ your daughter, yes? She is perfectly safe. She's sleeping, like I said. I know this is a major transgression," the thing used Ginny's hands to show distress, by rubbing them together. _Ginny's_ hands! The thing took a step forward on _Ginny's_ bare feet. "I will do anything I can to make it up to her. I'll apologise profusely, I'll explain to her why I've needed to do this and I'll vow never to do it again. This is worse than… well, it's a bad thing I'm doing, I know that, but please know - it's out of desperation! I've been casting out a line for so long, over and over again, and I've finally caught someone who can help me, I'm finally _here_!"

"Not for long," Arthur said grimly.

"You need to begone!" Molly shouted. It was all too much. She'd lost one child and she'd almost lost Ginny. Her family would never recover - there would always be a gaping wound where Fred was. And now Ginny might be taken from her also? She couldn't risk it - she had no idea who this person or thing was - she could not trust it. She _would_ not trust it. Several doors deeper into the house slammed opened and the codex was suddenly flying into the room. Arthur caught it midair and threw it open, already searching for something they could use against this thing.

"An expulsion spell," Molly said, keeping her wand trained on the thing wearing Ginny's body, ensuring it didn't move. Harry seemed caught between wanting to stand between Molly's wand and Ginny, his need to protect her even from her own mother making him confused.

"Harry, stay back," Hermione waved him down and Harry finally took several uncertain steps back, eyes fixed on Ginny and looking miserable.

"You won't help me," the thing said. It was not a question.

"You helped yourself to my daughter's body. You _dare_ do such a vile thing? I'll have you dragged out and… and… bottled!" She didn't know what she'd do with the thing once she dragged it out - how she'd contain it. All she knew was, it wouldn't be pretty. Ginny's face crumpled, breaking Molly's heart. Then all emotion cleared from Ginny's face, except grim determination.

"So be it," the thing said, using Ginny's voice.

Something opened up behind her. A window, or a door that led to elsewhere. The creature wearing Ginny's body didn't even turn to walk through. It simply took a step back through the frame, and before Molly could utter any spell whatsoever, the frame blinked out of existence. A flash, and it was gone.

Taking Ginny with it.


End file.
